


Operation Tortoise: Hoppy

by becharlatan



Series: Operation Tortoise: Hoppy [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Fluff, Harry has a pet Tortoise, M/M, Masturbation, Romance, Russian translation available in the notes, Slow Build, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-04-14 19:06:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4576287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becharlatan/pseuds/becharlatan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is in love with his neighbor, Harry, for years now. Hoppy is Harry's pet that aids Louis to the rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Operation Tortoise: Hoppy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [apprehensivekitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apprehensivekitty/gifts).



> This came out of nowhere but hey, 13k+, I cannot even fathom the idea how I managed to do that. The Ziam is subtle and Niall is the best neighbor ever. This is unbeta-ed. All mistakes are mine. 
> 
> Tell me your thoughts about this, yeah? Kudos or comment, lovies! Thanks!
> 
>  
> 
> P.S Sam, babe. I know you're busy and all but I give you this. I have a long list of your requests and yes, I am done with one. I love youuu.
> 
>  **17/01/16EDIT:** My lovely friend, Ai, has translated this in Russian. [Read it here](https://ficbook.net/readfic/3940021).

It seems insane (because clearly, the sounds of it alone is mental), but he wouldn’t deny it. No sirree. Louis Tomlinson wouldn’t just deny for a fact that he’s in love on a certain tortoise lover, bubbly hipster, flower child that lives a floor below him. (But then, he would deny it whenever Niall, his neighbor just across his flat, barges inside and sees him gawking at mentioned boy.)

Louis is quite enthralled and whipped, if you can say it like that because he’s been in love with his neighbor the moment he had laid eyes on him--exactly two years ago. 

He was inside the lift, waiting for the doors to slide close when a voice halted him and Louis pushed the button to let the person in. Louis was stunned. He couldn’t even think that someone as beautiful, wonderful can breathe the same air he breathes. He should be put behind the bars because just the idea of being inside a small space, sharing a little amount of space in that massive flat building is almost illegal. 

“Thank you,” the man with a deep voice slurred slowly for Louis’ liking. But he couldn’t care less, his voice feels music in Louis’ ears and Louis is already feeling the nerves in his tummy tightening. 

“I’m Harry,” the man introduced and Louis blinked before reaching out a hand to shake Harry’s long, slender, warm palm and Louis fought the urge to tighten the grip. “I live on 3B.” 

“Louis. 4C.” Louis beamed and stared at the green orbs staring back at him. Harry’s hair is ruffled and tied in a blue scarf with flamingo print. Louis thought that it was just the best view in the entire world. He was about to let go of Harry’s hand when Louis found Harry’s hair moving and was that a mouth on his strands? Louis blinked. Once. Twice. Yep, that’s a mouth alright. 

Louis hadn’t realized that he’d been tightening his grip on Harry’s hand which made Harry look at him with furrowed brows. 

And then a tortoise fell from his head. Louis’ thanked his quick reflexes to catch the tortoise with his free hand. But, a fucking tortoise just came from Harry’s curls and Louis fought his best not to scream. 

“Hoppy!” Harry shrieked and Louis blinked at the tortoise snapping its little mouth and moving his head in and out its shell. 

“Sorry. He likes staying in my hair,” Harry said with a giggle as Louis handed him the tortoise and nodded, didn’t really know what for, but did anyway and tried his best not to flush. He didn’t know what made him feel so stupid because there’s nothing wrong with what Harry had said. It’s just. Louis couldn’t stop imagining how it would feel to run his fingers on Harry’s hair and feel the curls sliding against his palms. And, how he dreaded his mind for all the thoughts, the tips of his fingers would tickle Harry’s scalp. 

Louis wanted to reply, but when they heard the ring of the lift, Harry smiled at Louis, who happened to be lost at thoughts because _god_ Harry’s smile was breathtaking and stepped out of the lift. He waved at Louis, a hand clutching tightly on the strap of his bag and the other holding the tortoise, Hoppy, carefully. 

Louis smiled at Harry and landed his stare on Hoppy. Louis is one-thousand percent sure that Hoppy is glaring at him. Louis rolled his eyes once the doors closed and he hitched when Harry’s scent wandered inside the lift. He inhaled everything his lungs can get, savoured Harry’s sweet, vanilla cologne. 

From then on, Louis would (pretend to) be surprised to find Harry and Hoppy (what an odd team, really) in the lift or lounge with him, every morning. Or sometimes at night when they both get home from work. They would always exchange soft and warm smiles to another. 

Louis would always bump into him, on any day of the week. They haven’t really talked about anything, but small talk. A quick greeting. And, that’s it. But actually, Louis wished for more. Louis whined and tried to collect every courage he can get just to say something aside from ‘Good morning Harry.’ 

Louis would sometimes ask about Hoppy because asking how Harry is, felt a bit too much (and he’s a shy bastard who can’t even man up to ask Harry out). Harry would tell him Hoppy’s doing okay, getting fed properly and doing some tortoise exercise. Louis thought it was so cute. Louis thought Harry’s even cuter. 

Louis knew after three months of getting to know Harry, that he has a crush on the man with curly brown hair and engrossed with his pet tortoise. Louis also knew that Hoppy hates him because Hoppy always glares at him when the three of them would encounter. 

One morning, a few days after Autumn had kicked in, Louis’ thoughts about Harry had grown into something more than a crush. Louis was sitting in his balcony, phone in his hand busy checking his mail and holding a mug of Yorkshire tea in his other, and sipping the drink carefully. He heard Harry’s voice and peeked out to find Harry sitting on a yoga mat, hair in a loose bun and legs crossed like the Indians would do. He had his eyes closed and he’s shirtless. Louis swallowed hard because Harry’s chest is filled with tattoos, and so white and Louis just wanted to sink his teeth on the skin, tease the ribs. He felt something in his cock twitch. 

And did he mention? Hoppy is sitting on his head, snapping his hair which made Harry make sounds that are _not_ friendly. Louis blinked as he eyed Harry through the railings of his balcony, and watched as Harry shifted his hands from his knees down to his thighs. The palms were draping slowly and with every single movement, Harry breathed in deeply and exhaled alongside a sound too erotic for Louis’ ears. (And maybe too much for his cock’s liking.) 

When Harry placed his hands around his hips and stretched open his legs, Louis found the bulge in Harry’s sweatpants and that’s it. He accidentally dropped his mug. (Luckily, it didn’t shatter into pieces. He can mop the spill later.) He hurriedly stood up because Harry had moved his head (because Hoppy had been biting his forehead now) and opened his eyes to look up. 

Louis rushed inside and dashed to his room. He pulled down his pants, and knelt on the floor; his head resting on the edge of the bed. He wrapped his clammy fingers around his length and started pumping, all thoughts about Harry’s naked chest, huge cock, and big hands were looping in his head. 

He knew from then on that he wanted Harry to fuck him the daylights out of him and maybe more than just that. He’s certain that his crush had turned into something higher, bigger and better. Though, Louis thought it’s not really for the better, but. Still. 

Sometimes they would talk in the balcony, exchange greetings on the morning of weekends (Harry does yoga on weekends only), or talk about tea, pizza, art, society, Hoppy, flowers, or their works whenever they would bump into one another. 

Louis had learned that Harry works as a yoga instructor (Louis’s not surprise) a few stops in the tunnel away from home. His favorite color is rainbow. (He even told Louis that he studies rainbow and Louis would just beam because he doesn’t get it.) His favorite food is anything salad. He loves yogurt. He loves old underground English bands and has a tall shelf of old vinyl records at home. He loves cooking and does a lot of volunteering on any possible job, event, workshop one could think of. 

Louis thought from then on that he would want to marry Harry. He would even alot a room for Hoppy just to make Harry say yes to him. 

Every time Harry would talk to him, Louis can’t help but want to invite himself in Harry’s flat. He didn’t get tired of listening to Harry’s stories about work or Hoppy or yoga or how the pipes had broken making Harry hurry in the shower. Louis listened to all of Harry’s stories and Louis couldn’t just ask for more. 

(On nights, after their friendly chat, Louis would hid under the sheets and wank himself until he’d feel satisfied and fallen asleep. At the same time, however, he couldn’t just stop wishing having Harry’s actual hands to finish him. Louis always hope for that day to come.) 

\-- 

“Hey man. I was wondering if I can--Lou?” Niall says as he helps himself inside the flat and closes the door behind him. He finds Louis sitting on a wooden chair in the balcony, legs planted on the tiled floor, arms on the railings and chin hooked on them. He’s facing the left side of the balcony and Niall rolls his eyes as he approach Louis (after grabbing toast from the plate, of course). 

“I don’t know Harry, but I haven’t heard about that before,” Louis says and Niall tries his best to minimize the sound of his snort. 

“But Hoppy’s all too small. Shouldn’t he be growing as big as a plate by now?” Harry huffs and Niall wonders what the hell are these two doofuses talking about. 

“Hey Lou?” Niall cuts in. Louis doesn’t turn around to face him and Niall wants to bang Louis’ chin against the railing. Clearly, Louis is an asshole when Harry’s around. Harry looks up at him and waves his long fingers cutely making Niall wave back as he chomp down his toast. 

“Hi Niall,” Harry greets. Louis watches Harry beam at the man standing beside him. He turns to his side and scan Niall’s figure from head to toe with a glare. Niall only snickers and shakes his head. 

“What are you two talking about?” Niall asks as he leans against the railing. “You doing yoga?” 

Harry nods. Louis ruffles his hair and stretches in his seat. “Harold is wondering why Hoppy is not getting bigger. He told something about socks which are totally insane by the way, if you ask me.” 

Niall blinks and faces Harry. Harry only beams and wiggles his toes. 

“Well, you know? Haven’t you heard about it?” 

“Heard about what?” Niall ponders and watches as Louis fights his giggles to be heard. 

“It’s not funny Lou. You promised not to laugh,” Harry tells them with a pout and Niall sees the way Louis tenses. Niall figured that Lou is just surprised as he is. Nobody calls Louis _Lou_ aside from Niall. Niall thinks Louis is being silly, his neck getting red and eyes blinking in astonishment. 

“I’m sorry. Okay, Harold. Tell Nialler what you suggested doing to make Hoppy grow bigger,” Louis says and Niall wants to throw Louis off the balcony so he can just snog Harry right there and then. _Proper flirt you are Lou_ , Niall wants to tell him but he just settles in his seat and looks at Harry. 

“Well, I always wear warm socks,” Harry says his grin blinding and Louis thinks he’ll go blind. He watches as Niall grins back, while he listens to Harry. He glances back to Harry and catches the man’s eyes. He smiles warmly at the yoga instructor and Harry mirrors it back. 

“How is socks related with you getting tall?” Niall counters, totally bewildered. Louis laughs at him but still has his eyes locked on Harry. 

“You know, when you wear warm socks, you’ll sleep deep. When you’re deep in your sleep, you get taller, you get bigger.” Harry explains. He pouts after telling Niall his idea when he sees the Irish looking at him blankly. 

“That’s stupid Harry,” Niall replies with a quack and Louis hits him hard on the arm. “Why’d you do that for?” 

“I’m sorry Harold, Nialler doesn't know how to filter sometimes,” Louis says as he glares at Niall who simply shrugs and reaches for Louis’ coffee. 

“Well, you haven’t heard Louis’ story yet,” Harry replies, pout still on his lips and Louis just wants to kiss those protruding lips away. Actually, Louis wants to eat those pink, plump, and by the looks of it-- soft lips, away. 

“Harold,” Louis says slowly, the _r_ sound rolling in his tongue enunciated very well and looks at Harry with a scowl. “You wound me,” he adds before placing a hand on his chest. Niall snorts as he looks at Louis. 

“Well then, what’s your story?” Niall asks as he hands the mug down. 

“I kiss boys to grow taller,” Louis explains and Niall looks at him and then on Harry before belting a loud laugh. Louis growls at his friend while Harry joins Niall laughing. 

“Mate, you are seriously, seriously crazy,” Niall wheezes and Harry rolls on his yoga mat like a furball, hair pointing at all directions. Hoppy is walking away from him, avoiding the limbs and legs sprawled on the floor slowly but surely. 

Louis watches as Harry had turned into a human starfish; the rays of sunshine hitting his skin and the breeze caressing his face. He stares at how Harry had his eyes close while his teeth biting the bottom of his lip to stop from laughing. He watches Harry’s chest shakes in each laughter and how his shirt is slowly riding up to expose the milky skin; Louis finds his belly button adorable. _Christ!_ Louis can’t help but fall for Harry even more. 

It’s insane. Because whenever Louis would chat with Harry or just spend sometime with him on their balconies, everything just feels amazing. 

“You might need to kiss more boys, Lou,” Harry retorts and Louis snaps from staring at the belly button to look at Harry whose eyes had grown wide after realizing what he had just said. 

Louis feels his cheeks getting warmer and sees Harry’s neck turning red. He suddenly sits up, closing his legs near him and staring at his toes. “‘M s-sorry. I d-didn’t mean that. I say the stupidest things.” 

Louis bites his lip and rubs his ribs under his shirt. What should he say? How should he answer that? How should he tell Harry that it’s okay and he would definitely want to kiss him? 

“Don’t worry Harry, I’m sure Louis isn’t offended by that,” Niall answers back and saves Louis’ thoughts. Harry looks up and beams at them; his cheeks are pink and Louis can’t help but smile back. 

Hoppy suddenly pops beside Harry’s foot and snaps on Harry’s toe. “Ow, Hoppy.” 

Louis watches as Harry lifts the tortoise and faces the pet. Louis watches as Harry furrows his eyebrows like a little girl attempting her best to get mad but all you can see is a half-scowl, half-pout that just screams cuteness. 

“Oh I need to go now,” Harry says as he stands up bringing the yoga mat with him and an enthusiastic Hoppy. “I have a session in 10. I need to cover for Perrie.” 

Louis watches as Harry smiles at them. “See you Louis,” Harry says before stepping inside his flat. Louis smiles back. He continues staring at Harry’s balcony until Niall hits him on his back. 

“I can’t believe you,” Niall says sheepishly as he pushes himself off the railings. “I can’t believe you haven’t asked him yet, you twat.” 

Louis looks at him annoyed but blinks his eyes just to show Niall that he’s (pretending to be) oblivious and he doesn’t (pretends not to) understand him. Niall only rolls his eyes and shakes his head with a laugh. 

“He’s clearly into you Louis,” Niall tells him but Louis ignores him. He turns his back against the flat and looks down to see Harry appearing from the entrance of the building. He’s changed into his black skinny jeans, floral button down and flip flops. Louis thinks that Harry looks perfect in whatever he wears. His hair is nestled with a lime scarf today and a shoulder bag hanging loosely on his right shoulder. He spots Hoppy’s moss green shell on his head and Louis can’t help but smile at the sight. 

He knows he’s whipped and he doesn’t mind. 

\-- 

Louis groans as he steps off the bus. The rain had suddenly decided to fall and drench him. He quickly steps in the shed for shelter and looks around him. He needs to get home because Lottie had texted him this morning; telling him she’ll drop by for dinner. It’s almost 6 in the evening and he still needs to prepare food. Add to that, he has no umbrella and he needs to get home. 

He’s already pondering whether to run off and dash through the rain just to get home but that would mean risking on getting his students’ essays wet and he wouldn’t want that. He sighs in defeat because the best thing to do is practically wait for the rain to stop. 

Louis is standing at the left side of the shed, tapping his foot impatiently and glancing at his watch every now and then to check how enough time he still has to call in for takeaway and clean his flat for Lottie. 

“Louis?” A voice says and Louis turns to see Harry standing right in front of him, dressed in a white button down shirt and a green apron around his waist. He’s holding a big black umbrella and a brown paper bag pressed in his chest with his other hand. 

“Harold,” Louis breathes and he doesn’t even know why he had to do that. 

“Aren’t you going home?” Harry asks. 

“Well, as a matter of fact Harold, I need to be home.” Louis tells him and Harry nods before stepping closer to Louis. “However, I have no umbrella. Would you care sharing with me?” 

Harry only smiles and nods before covering the two of them from the big drops if the rain. They both step out of the shed and walk towards their flat building. It’s still quite a walk, and they both try to avoid each puddle they come across to. 

Louis presses himself closer to Harry to avoid getting his bag filled with essays wet. He can see Harry smile shyly each time their elbows bump and Louis feels his cheeks getting warmer despite the cold rain. The umbrella is big enough to cover them both but Louis just wants to savour this and enjoy that he’s with Harry and hey! No Hoppy! 

“So, no stubby feet on your head today?” 

“Hmm?” Harry looks at him. He tightens the hold on the paper bag. “Oh, you mean Hoppy?” Harry asks while a light flashes on his face and the wind flows the remaining locks from is loose bun. 

Louis nods and watches as Harry almost trips on the pavement. Louis automatically wraps an arm around Harry’s waist to help him steady on his legs. He sees Harry blushing as they reach the entrance of the building. 

Louis steps inside and instantly grabs the paper bag from Harry’s grasp. Harry smiles and closes the umbrella shut. He pushes the curls behind his ear and looks for Louis. Louis is already waiting for him by the lift, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. Harry stands beside him and about to retrieve the paper bag but Louis shakes his head. “Please Harold, let me.” 

“A true gentleman you are,” Harry remarks and Louis flashes a wide grin. “And hey,” Harry adds, his voice deep and Louis feels tingle creeping on his spine. Harry makes a cute pout and Louis rolls his eyes with a laugh. “My name’s Harry, Lou,” he reminds, laughter trickling in his voice and Louis couldn’t just deny that it made him smile wider. 

“So where’s Hoppy, Harold?” Louis asks. He watches as the light travels down slowly, stopping at each floor. 

“He’s with Liam, my mate. My niece’s been wanting a pet but Liam wouldn’t approve of it. I let him have Hoppy for tonight.” 

“My, my how brave of Hoppy,” Louis comments as the doors of the lift finally open. They wait for the people to swarm out; Harry greets some of them and Louis nods bidding a good night. They both get in and Harry pushes the buttons of their floors. 

Louis sighs and closes his eyes as he feels the doors slide close. He leans against the wall, paper bag still in his arms. Harry looks at him curiously. “Lou? Are you alright?” 

He opens his eyes and looks at Harry whose face is only a few inches away from him. Clearly, Harry doesn’t know the meaning of personal space. Louis stares at the green orbs ogling at him with concern. Louis wonders how someone as sweet and innocent and wonderful like this man be standing just a few inches away from him? Louis wants to truly ask for his hand. Can he just do it now? 

He flusters and gulps. “Yeah. It’s just--Lottie’s dropping by and I still have to make dinner and clean my flat. And I don’t even know if I have time for all of that.” 

Louis notices how Harry’s face tenses and he assumes that oh--wait. 

“Lottie’s my sister,” Louis explains and glances quickly through his peripheral vision to see how Harry relaxes and nods at him. “She’s visiting because uni’s been stressful lately.” 

They stay quiet until the lift reaches Harry’s floor. Louis steps out of the lift with him and they walk down the hall to reach Harry’s door. Louis knows he should be giving the paper bag but when Harry reached for it, he simply shrugged. (Remind him about Lottie and he would just flip it off; he’s finally with Harry, good god). 

Harry juggles his keys and hooks it on the lock. Louis waits for it to open with a smile on his face. He’s actually tired right now, after going through 5 classes today and with only 15 minutes for his coffee break, but he could care less. What matters right now is that he’s standing beside the man he loves for more than two years right in front of his flat. He feels like a teenage girl; he might actually be acting worse than a teenage girl and he doesn’t give a damn about it. Good god, really. 

When the door finally opens, Harry flicks on the light and reaches for the paper bag. Louis steps aside and quickly bids good night. Harry nods and Louis turns around to start heading to the staircase because he needs his cardio. Damn right he is. He feels so energized that he might spend some of the excess energy for climbing the stairs. 

Before he can even take one little tiny _tiny_ step, Harry’s voice echos down the hall and Louis smiles to himself. He tightens the grip on the strap of his bag and he’s happy that the gods from above heard him wishing for Harry to at least say goodnight. He’s been waiting for this. He’s enjoying this. Louis. 

“Good ni--” “If you--” 

Louis blinks because if he heard him correctly, Harry isn’t just going to say goodnight. He looks at Harry; he stares at the white shirt, fitted perfectly on his torso, the sleeves hugging his biceps and some of the tattoos peeking from the few open buttons of the clothe. He stares at the apron and tries to recall if he’d asked him why is he wearing a Starbucks apron. 

“Go ahead Harold,” Louis says cooly, his smile small and he sees the lad shifts his weight from one foot to another. 

“If you want…” Harry begins, the ends of his shoes pointing at each other. His figure leaning against the wall of the building; the wall has cracks and cobwebs on the ceiling. Louis wonders when was the last time the building has been renovated. If he was the owner of the place, he would have it renovated if Harry’s going to rent a flat. The man deserves a decent place to match his wonderful glorious face. 

“I--I can cook dinner for you and Lottie, while you go shower, clean the rest and set the table?” Harry says (or asks) as he looks at Louis, who is completely rooted on the floor. And does Louis’ ears playing at him? Is Harry offering to cook dinner for him? 

“R-really? Yeah sure. I mean, no. No Harold, that would be too much,” Louis breathes because where are his manners? He just can’t let Harry work so much for this. It’s a friday night, he should be resting or going out or something, because Harry shouldn’t waste his precious time for Louis. Why would Harry do such thing? Why? Fucking why? But fucking why not too? 

Harry shakes his head quickly. “I want to,” Harry replies. He pushes himself off the wall and stands straight. He grins at Louis and Louis feels his knees go weak. “Besides, I’ll be cooking too much anyway,” Harry shrugs, the bell pepper and carrots peeking from the paper bag in his arms. Louis smiles at the man. He adds with an abashed voice and gestures, “Go along now Lou. I’ll fix the food at once then bring it to you.” 

Louis finds himself staring. He can’t even utter out a response, so instead, he turns around and dashes to the staircase. When he hears the door closes, Louis quickly leans against the nearest wall. He tightens the hold on his bag and exhales dramatically. 

Harry just offered cooking him food. Harry just _fucking_ pleaded to say yes on his offer. Harry will fucking cook him a meal. Louis can just die right now. 

But decides that it can wait after Louis feasts on Harry’s meal and ask him for marriage. Louis dashes upstairs and jimmies the key in the keyhole. \-- 

Louis takes a quick shower. He digs through his clothes and after realizing that he went for something too lax, (and maybe a bit inappropriate. But, hey, in his defense he just wants to show off since Harry would drop by and he’s planning to invite Harry over. But then he stops because what would Lottie say? That would be embarrassing and Lottie would just probably tease him) he grabs a hoodie and changes the jeans to a much comfortable sweatpants. 

A couple of minutes later, after tidying a little bit and setting his most decent set of plates and cutlery, Louis hears a knock on the door. It was Lottie. She flashes him a big grin and Louis reaches out to give her a warm and tight hug. 

“Hey Lottie,” Louis mumbles as he pulls away and lets her inside. 

“Hey Lou. How are you doing?” 

“The usual, teaching. Essays. Friday nights are for staying in,” Louis replies as he shuts the door and pushes Lottie to the living room. “Are you hungry? Dinner will be ready soon.” 

“Are we having takeaways?” Lottie teases. She drops her bag on the floor, beside the couch and ties her blonde hair with a black ribbon lace. She sits on the couch and lets out a relieved sigh while her feet are bouncing playfully on the wooden floor. 

Louis snorts and waves a hand. “Please Lottie. I have proper food waiting for you.” 

Lottie raises an eyebrow and looks at him suspiciously, “I know you don’t cook Lou. It’s alright, I’m a uni student, I pretty much live in takeaway.” 

Louis rolls his eyes and thinks that he and Lottie had been spending so much time together they both sass people. He laughs as he goes to the kitchen to prepare them drinks. Lottie follows him and starts talking about school, about their mum and the kids. He listens to all of it attentively, gives the perfect nod of the head at every statement while crushing some ice for their lemonade. 

Louis is slicing lemon when Lottie dashes off to open the front door. He blinks at the empty space beside him because Lottie shouldn’t be answering the front door when she doesn’t even live here. But then again, he’s full with lemons and citrus, Lottie’s entertaining skills would be helpful. 

“Lou, there’s a man. Uh, he says he’s got our dinner?” Lottie rushes back, face surprised and Louis just smiles. 

“Will you put this on the table?” 

Lottie nods before grabbing the tray of pitcher and glasses. 

When he sees Harry outside the flat, he notices that Harry had changed into a black button down shirt, some buttons unclipped and sleeves folded to his elbows. He’s not wearing the apron anymore and his black leather shoes had been replaced by brown boots. 

“Harold, I must say,” Louis utters and he tries not to show that he’s flustering furiously. He isn’t just blushing because Harry looks amazing, but because he’s so underdressed. If actually feels as if he’s naked under Harry’s gaze. “You look dashing tonight.” 

Harry smiles brightly and not wearing a bun anymore. Louis couldn’t really decide which look is better because he looks beautiful either way. His curls are swaying against his neck as he giggles a little and hands the bag with food container in it to Louis. “I also made salad and tart for dessert.” 

“That’s a bit too much, isn’t it, Harold?” Louis speaks, trying his best to make his voice sound normal. Louis wants to marry him, most definitely. 

Harry shifts his gaze from Louis to the floor and smiles to himself. “N-no, I insist. I hope you and Lottie will enjoy the food,” he says shyly. He puts his hands in his back pocket and beams a little. 

“Wait, aren’t you joining us?” Louis asks as he leans against the doorframe and looks at Harry skeptically. 

Harry shakes his head and Louis must admit that he feels a bit sad to the news. “A friend had asked me to cover for his shift in a pub. I said yes to him last week. It would be terrible if I flip it off. I do not want to disappoint,” Harry explains while flashing Louis a big smile. Louis nods, not showing his frown. Instead he smiles at Harry and bids him goodnight. 

Louis waits for Harry to enter the lift. He waits for Harry to look back at him and wave playfully before he steps inside the lift and the doors slide shut. Louis wants to tell Harry that he doesn’t disappoint, he would never disappoint people and it’s alright to break promises once in a while. Especially when Louis plans to invite him for dinner, but. It’s stupid and mad. Louis doesn’t know when he’d gone mad over something they call _love_. 

He turns to get inside and once the door closes, Lottie’s head pops from the wall dividing the kitchen and living room and smiles deviously at him. Louis rolls his eyes as he walks to the table and lays the tupperware filled with pasta and meatballs, Caesar salad with so many bacon bits and mouth watering blueberry tarts. 

Louis wonders how Harry had managed to do all of this in just short amount of time. He also remembers that Harry had clearly said he’ll make too much food and yet he’s leaving to cover a friend in work...Now, something smells fishy, Louis thinks as he opens the lids of the container. He eyes the extra plate supposed to be Harry’s but ignores it for now. He can always ask Harry next time. They’re neighbors after all. Same flat building and all. They’re balcony-friends, if you consider that term, then they’re great balcony-friends. 

What intrigues him right now is why the effort? Why go all the way and tell your friend that ‘Hey, it’s okay, I can cook you dinner even if I need to go to this gig and cover for a friend,’ Louis wants it to mean something but that would be insane. It won’t make any sense, at all. Or will it? Louis shakes his thoughts and asks Lottie to get serving cutleries for the food. 

Everything smells divine and Louis just can’t help but let his thoughts play at him. Harry offered making dinner even if Harry wouldn’t really stay in for the night. He had offered to cook Louis pasta even if he has work. Harry fucking offered. Louis felt fucking loved. Louis felt so, _so_ special. He also felt that he needs to ask for Harry’s hand as soon as he gives the tupperwares back. That would be tomorrow, by the way. 

He’s still in deep thoughts, twirling his fork in the pasta and about to shove it in his mouth when Lottie suddenly says, “You didn’t tell me you have a boyfriend, Lou.” 

Louis chokes and Lottie snickers at him, taking a forkful of the salad. Lottie smiles playfully while chewing the food and Louis reaches for his drink. He reaches for the remote with his other hand and turns on the telly. 

Louis likes to believe that life is good, and evidently the spaghetti and meatballs in his plate says so. \-- 

The next day, Louis carefully shuffles off the bed. Lottie is still sleeping and Louis misses his sisters. He decides to make a visit as soon as the term ends on December. 

He knows that Harry is completely free today. He would just return the tupperwares (which he washed three times before putting in the dishwasher just to make sure) and maybe offer Harry for a cup of tea or something because he clearly feels that today is a good day to ask Harry’s hand for marriage. 

Easy. He’s just going to ask Harry for breakfast first and then plan their wedding next. 

Louis shakes his head, silly _silly_ Louis. He dashes to the bathroom for a quick shower. He got into a new pair of sweats and clean shirt. Once he reached the kitchen, he places the three tupperwares inside the paperbag and springs to the entrance door to put on his Toms and place the key in the pocket of his hoodie. He makes sure that he has his phone just in case Lottie wakes and comes looking for him. 

Louis decides that climbing the stairs would be a wonderful exercise this morning. He’s so excited and he thinks he’s gone mental because there’s nothing exciting about returning the tupperwares in general. He’s anticipating a wonderful conversation. If he’s lucky he might really, really hear Harry’s yes. 

Louis doesn’t even know when did he start thinking about marrying the tortoise lover. All he knows is he’s been pining for years and he couldn’t think of someone else to fall in love with. It’s seems stupid (because it is!) but this is Louis and Louis falls deep. 

When he reaches the last step, he ruffles his hair still somewhat wet from the shower. He unzips his hoodie and rotates his shoulders a bit before standing up straight. He walks to Harry’s door and clears his throat. 

‘Dinner was wonderful. Breakfast on me?’ Louis mentally says to himself. He wants to sound cool. He must sound cool because Harry is a cool person. Harry is perfect, and stunning, and amazing. Louis, on the other hand, is just an English Lit professor who lacks romance. 

He knocks on the door and right away the door opens. 

The grin on Louis’ face was wiped clean. The paperbag slips in his hold and he swallows hard, not realizing that a lump has been in his throat the entire time. 

“May I help you?” The god says and Louis vites the inside of his cheeks because of course, a person like Harry has only to be paired with someone whose beauty matches his. The person right before him justifies it very well. 

Louis feels naked under his gaze even if the other man is only wearing boxers and he’s the one who’s overdressed. Louis thinks he’d never felt so exposed in his entire life. The man puts the cigarette between his lips and takes a drag. He puffs the smoke mesmerizingly and Louis thinks no one else can do it like the man does. 

They’re still staring at one another and Louis thinks the person will slam the door on his face any time now because he looks so annoyed (perfectly, beautifully annoyed, mind you). The man rolls his eyes before kneeling down, his middle curling and reaches for the paperbag beside Louis’ feet. Louis feels stupid even more when the man stands up and shoves the bag towards him with a stern look. 

“Uh?” the man’s voice echoed in the hallway and Louis can’t help but notice that the man’s voice is thick and springy--English mixed with Asian accent. This god before him has the most amazing set of eyes (next to Harry’s, of course). Louis blinks. 

“I’m just returning these,” Louis explains himself and he tries his best not to stare at the inked skin. Louis names him the-god-slash-man-wearing-boxers-living-with-his-supposed-to-be-husband. Oh how it breaks his heart. 

The man nods before looking at Louis. “I’ll tell him, he’s still asleep. Exhausted from last night,” the man replies and Louis tries his best to hide the annoyance because those words just gave him a shudder of jealousy. 

“Uh yeah. Cool. Thanks man,” Louis replies as he turns away and dashes towards the lift. His phone rings before the doors slide open and he’s just thankful that Lottie’s calling. He doesn’t know how to ignore the-god-slash-man-wearing-boxers-living-with-his-supposed-to-be-husband who is still staring at him from Harry’s door. 

As soon as the lift opens, Louis hears the door shut close and Lottie’s voice whining for a decent breakfast. 

Louis leans against the wall of the lift. He decides that this two years of pining over Harry should come to an end. 

\-- 

It’s been weeks since the incident on Harry’s flat. Louis tries his best to avoid Harry at all cost. It’s funny, really, because Louis doesn’t do things like that. He shouldn’t be acting like an ex cheated on because he has no rights. They weren’t even together. Harry isn’t even aware of Louis’ feelings and yet, here is Louis, in his balcony checking mails on his phone when he sees the light from Harry’s flat flicker on. 

Louis tries his best to ignore the rustling of Harry’s glass door and voice as he talk to Hoppy about lettuces and bananas. Louis focuses on the paragraphs and list of schedule sent to his mail for the upcoming term. 

It’s already chilly and Louis just can’t wait on how to enjoy the break. Only two months in and he’ll drive back to Doncaster to spend the holidays. 

Louis is trying his best to read one essay when a lettuce landed on his phone. He breaks away from the screen and looks at the direction of Harry’s balcony. Harry is beaming at him blindly but still looking at him softly. 

“Yes?” Louis asks, his voice croaks from the cold air. He takes a hold of the lettuce and sees a small bite at the edge. Harry steals a lettuce to throw it at him, how divine. 

“I’ve been calling you,” Harry says and Louis furrows his brows. _Well, I’ve been ignoring you,_ he wants to reply but he only shrugs and shifts his body so that he’s facing Harry. He’s wearing his white shirt and apron. His hair is a messy nest on his head and he sees Hoppy’s shadow slowly walking towards Harry. Louis thinks it’ll take Hoppy years before he reaches his human. 

“How may I help you, Harold?” Louis asks, he closes his phone and places it on the beside table. He still hasn’t asked the apron part of his wardrobe. 

Harry shakes his head and crosses his arms. “You’re ignoring me Lou,” he says with a pout and Louis’ breath hitches. _Good god!_

Was he being too obvious? At least Harry fucking notices? Louis is torn, but that’s beside the point. Louis is trying his best to crush the pining of two fucking years for Harry Gorgeous Styles. 

_I’m sorry_ , Louis wants to say but Harry is distracting him with his blinding grin, it’s almost annoying (but then it’s not. It’s actually lovely). “I am not, Harold.” Louis counters, absent-mindedly tearing the lettuce. Louis will buy a whole head of lettuce for Hoppy, he swears. 

Louis is deep in thought when another lettuce piece lands on his hair. He looks at Harry whose toes are tapping on the tile floor, annoyed. “You’re ignoring me again,” Harry says and hangs his head. He can see the way Harry’s fingers play at the hem of his apron, his pout visible under the locks and eyes downcast. Louis doesn’t want to see that. 

That settles it. 

“Have you eaten dinner?” Louis suddenly blurts. The pieces of the lettuce scattered on the floor. He glances on his watch and notices that it’s only a few minutes past 6. He could invite Harry over, order some pizza and hang out. Or he could take him out, a diner downtown, but then that would seem too much. They’re only neighbors, nothing more. 

“Harold,” Louis says and Harry looks up. His eyes are shining and Louis wants to get lost with them. “Do you want to eat dinner with me?” Louis nearly dies when Harry’s lips start to curl upward, his dimples creating a deep hole in his cheeks and toes playing wonderfully on the floor. 

“Are you asking me out Louis?” Louis hiccups. 

“I’m asking you,” _to go out with me, yes, please go out with me_ Louis contemplates but instead adds, “...to go to my flat. Bring Hoppy with you if you must and we’ll order pizza.” 

Harry beams and Louis is thankful that he’s not making it even more complicated. He would like to play along and ask him out, bring him, woo him but then images of the-god-slash-man-wearing-boxers-living-with-his-supposed-to-be-husband hurts his confidence. He can’t just break them apart; Louis won’t do such thing. 

“Okay,” Harry replies and Louis smiles. “Can I shower first? I’m sweaty.” 

“Of course. I don’t allow barbarians to enter my home,” Louis replies, getting up and picking the phone from the table. “I’m going to order pizza now. What do you want?” 

Harry places a finger under his chin, as if thinking deeply. “Hawaiian would be nice.” 

Louis nods. He quickly punches the number and presses the phone against his ear. Harry waves and makes a motion of washing his hair to inform Louis that he’s going to take a shower. Louis smiles and steps inside the flat as soon as Harry disappears and closes the glass door. He tells their order and informs the delivery guy to bring a change for 50-quid. 

Only 10 minutes in, Louis hears a knock on the door. He dashes from the bedroom, sliding a new shirt on his head and ruffles his hair with a hand towel before opening the door. Hoppy is being cradled on Harry’s hair and Louis wants to roll his eyes. 

“Hi,” Harry greets and Louis smiles 

“Harold,” Louis replies as he open the door wide for the duo to enter. Harry removes his slippers but keeps his socks on and Louis motions him towards the living room. Harry places Hoppy on the floor and makes himself all too comfortable on the big couch just across the telly. Louis sits beside him and shuffles for a channel to watch. They settle on a rerun of Alphas (which they don’t really pay attention to, so Louis lowers the volume and sits on the couch just like what Harry is doing). 

“Your place looks nice,” Harry informs as he reaches for a throw pillow and hugs it. “I never thought it would be like this. I mean--sorry. Ignore me.” 

“Nonsense Harold,” Louis assures him, totally intrigued with how Harry imagines his place. For the record, Louis imagines Harry’s place too. He thinks Harry’s home is filled with plants, and paintings and scarves and tortoise poo but still wonderful and cozy at the same time. “I want to know how you imagine my flat would be. I want to know,” he says as he leans against the armrest and places a hand under his chin, his elbow on his knee. He wonders if he sounded so eager like a kid. 

Harry blushes and smiles. He shifts to find a comfortable spot before looking at Louis who’s is totally staring at him with concentration. “I’ve always thought your place would be filled with books and papers, since, uh. You’re an English professor? Yeah. Something like that.” 

Louis laughs and Harry blushes. How can someone make an old torn shirt look so lovely? Only Harry can do such things and those socks that don’t match, Louis can’t help but marvel at them. Harry is staring at the screen, totally baffled with what’s happening. Louis wonders if he can be like one of the stars on the screen, just by smelling one can know the entire crime scene, pheromones and all. Louis watches as how Harry’s face changes from curiosity to bedazzlement and god help Louis because, Hoppy? What is Hoppy doing under the couch? 

“I think Hoppy is stuck,” Louis says as he uncrosses his legs and stands up. “Here, let me. Here you go,” Louis remarks as he reaches for Hoppy’s shell and looks at the tortoise. He hears a laugh from behind and when he turns back to the couch, Louis is surprised to find Harry’s face only an inch away. Louis blinks and stares at Harry’s lips (accidentally) before swallowing a lump in his throat. 

Just before he can embarrass himself, the doorbell rings and Louis backs away. He hands over Hoppy and rushes to the door. 

Louis comes back a few seconds later and found Hoppy on the couch but no Harry. Louis also notice that the telly is now turned off. 

“Harold?” Louis asks. He carries with him a medium box of half Hawaiian and half All meat lovers. His nostrils are filled with the wonderful pizza dough scent and his stomach starts to grumble. 

“Balcony,” Harry sings and Louis shakes his head while he walks to the balcony and found Harry sitting on one of the wooden stools. He places the box on the small coffee table and looks at Harry who’s beaming at him. 

“I am not sure, but I hope we can eat here?” Harry asks and Louis only nods. 

“I’m going to grab some drinks, what do you fancy drinking Harold?” Louis says teasingly and he beams delightfully because Harry laughs like a kid being tickled in the armpit. 

“Whatever you’re getting Lou. Anything will do,” Harry replies and Louis nods before going back inside to get two cold beers and a bottle of juice, just in case. 

They eat in silence and drink their beer (rather, Louis drinks his beer while Harry opts for an orange juice, good thinking Lou). The evening breeze is so much colder compared awhile ago and yet Louis feels warm enough just by staring at the man he’s so smitten for years. 

When Louis is done with his third slice, he wipes his lips with a napkin and shifts on the stool to face Harry. 

“So, you’re boyfriend’s not home?” Louis asks and Harry’s face crumples in confusion. He blinks before choking to the pizza he’s should be swallowing but Louis’ question came out of nowhere it took him by surprise. Louis panics and reaches for the juice. He helps Harry drink the liquid and pats Harry’s back softly. 

“Sorry,” Louis begins. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

Harry places the crust down the box and smiles at Louis. He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. “I have a boyfriend?” Harry asks and Louis looks at him in disbelief. He nods behind the beer bottle and Harry only giggles. 

“If you’re referring to Hoppy, then no. He’s not at home. He’s actually on your couch,” Harry jokes and Louis rolls his eyes. 

It is as if Harry wants Louis to explain himself because by the way Harry had reacted, this boyfriend illusion is an illusion and nothing more. Louis sighs and shrugs. 

“When I returned the tupperware three weeks ago--” 

“A month.” Harry cuts in and Louis looks at him confused. 

“Sorry?” 

“You returned my containers a month ago, Lou,” Harry explains. “I counted. Wait. Is that why you’ve been ignoring me?” 

Louis blinks and blushes. He freezes and looks at the pizza slices on the table. “I wasn’t ignoring you.” 

When Harry is still silent he continues, “I just thought, that maybe. You know, your boyfriend might be there and I don’t want to annoy you or summat.” 

Harry giggles and stretches his limbs. “You think you annoy me?” 

Louis looks at him, his brows bridging and mouth pressed in a thin line. “I don’t know. Do I?” 

Harry only laughs and notices a basket filled with paper airplanes at the corner of the balcony against the railings. He gets up from the stool and skids towards the basket. Louis watches him and stares at how Harry lifts one paper after the other and reads the writing on it. 

“What are these?” Harry asks. He sits on the floor, legs folded under him and hair dancing along the breeze. Louis looks at him softly and sees Harry holds a paper plane and reads the text. 

“It’s a project in my class,” Louis answers as he gets up from the stool too and sits beside him. “I was discussing free-form writing and asked them to write anything that makes them feel caged on the paper. Told them to fold it in paper planes and by the end of the term, we’ll launch it. I brought it with me because my office is already packed with essays and theses.” 

Harry nods and looks at the name of each student on the left flip of the plane. Louis watches in content as Harry tries to read the words, phrases, sentences and drawings, even, with a smile and glitter in his gaze. 

“Did you also write one?” Harry asks as he stares at Louis after reaching the bottom pit of the basket. 

Louis shrugs and shakes his head. “I’m the professor, Harold. I don’t have to get involve.” 

Harry pouts and frowns, “Now, that’s annoying.” 

“‘xcuse me?” 

“You should write one Lou,” Harry says in excitement and looks at Louis with almost puppy eyes that Louis can’t just say no to (even if he tries). 

“Why would I do that?” 

“Because you have to be an example,” Harry reasons and is Harry bouncing on his legs? Is he a kid? What kind of conversation are they having again? 

Louis rolls his eyes and lies flat on floor. He closes his eyes and listens to Harry’s digging through papers. Louis thinks he can do this for eternity. He thinks, he likes being with Harry always even if just as friends. 

“Zayn is not my boyfriend,” Harry’s voice cuts through the silence and Louis opens his eyes to find Harry lying beside him, face a few inches away him, yet again. Harry clearly doesn’t know the meaning of personal space. Louis is just thankful that his blush is hidden from the the cold night. 

Harry is staring at him, eyes full of glee and Louis wonders what is it with him that always make Harry look so cheerful. Louis is nothing but a serious, lonely, boring English professor who sass on students and people he’s close with. But whenever he’s with Harry, Harry looks at him as if he is holding a candy or a balloon and Harry is a kid ecstatic on grabbing it. 

“Zayn?” Louis asks and Harry turns to his side so that his entire body is facing Louis. He folds an arm to serve as a pillow and his free hand lying limply between them. 

“The beautiful man who smokes,” Harry describes and Louis nods at the image of the-god-slash-man-wearing-boxers-living-with-his-supposed-to-be-husband. Wait. What? The beautiful man? 

“Are you sure he’s not your boyfriend, Harold?” Louis counters and Harry looks up at him, his lashes batting prettily under the moonlight. 

“Zayn’s my mate. Besides, he’s married.” 

Louis nods and folds his hands above his stomach. Harry makes a circle with his pointer finger on the floor. Louis watches the motion and can’t help but feel tingly, imagining that Harry is running his finger on his skin instead. 

“As much as I find it wonderful-- Zayn’s married life and being your mate,” Louis says, his gaze is now back on the raven sky. “You don’t have to explain, Harold. It’s okay. I understand.” 

Harry shifts and makes an annoyed sound. Louis looks back at him and sees that pout again. 

“Listen to me Lou,” Harry says and the finger making invisible circles on the floor a while ago is now wrapped around Louis’ forearm. Louis doesn’t pull away from the hold and looks at Harry curiously. “Remember Liam?” 

Louis nods even though he doesn’t really recall meeting Liam. Aside from the playdate of course, which he told a month ago? Louis just nods and waits for Harry to continue his reasoning. Louis is truly have fallen for him, it’s insane. 

“Zayn’s married to Liam. I helped Zayn in the pub that night. Remember?” 

“Yeah, black shirt and all,” Louis answers and he can feel his forearm burning up. Harry nods and continues. 

“Yeah so, Liam asked if he can borrow Hoppy for Lyka, their daughter and my niece, and I said yes since Lyka would be alone because Liam has overtime work and Zayn’s running a pub and all. We stayed until 3 in the morning and just invited Zayn to crash.” 

Louis smiles and feels a tug in his heart. Harry doesn’t need to explain all of these. Harry doesn’t need to justify himself because Louis will believe him no matter what. 

“Harry,” Louis says and Harry hiccups. He loosens the hold in Louis’ arm and places the hand back to the floor. 

“My name,” Harry breathes and Louis looks at him. 

“Your name?” 

“I’m not Harold anymore,” Harry says playfully and Louis rolls his eyes. 

“You don’t need to explain, but I certainly want to commend for Hoppy’s bravity for being Lyka’s babysitter. Girls could be troublesome.” 

Harry laughs and lies flat on his back. “But I want to. Explain, I mean. Because.” 

Louis looks at him and smiles. “I won’t ignore you anymore, _Harry_.” Louis clarifies and Harry looks at him beaming. 

\-- 

There would be days that Harry would choose to bugger Louis in his flat. Louis doesn’t mind, of course. Rather, he enjoys and cherishes every moment. 

Louis can’t still believe that he’d made a new level in their friendship and he won’t deny that his feelings for Harry had grown even deeper and two years of pining is already leading to three and life be damned because right now, nothing matters than sitting beside Harry in his couch. 

The telly is playing a rerun match of the Red Devils versus Arsenal. They both love Manchester, they both love football and they both love watching the matches including the reruns, and yet both doesn’t pay any attention to the screen. Instead, Harry is curled beside Louis, asleep and tucked under (Louis’) blanket. Louis, on the other hand is busy checking essays for the finals that term before Christmas break can finally kick in. He also steal glances on Harry’s face every 10 seconds. 

They met a few hours ago, right in front of Louis’ front door. He was searching for his keys in his bag, trying his best not to drop the papers on the floor. They haven’t really talked about having dinner that night because they had dinner the night before. (And Louis thinks that they can’t just have two dinners together succeedingly). 

He was about to slot the key when Harry appeared magically beside him, Hoppy on his head and a paper bag with tupperwares filled with chicken pesto sandwiches and cheesecake. Louis only beamed and let Harry enter before him. 

They devoured the food in just a few minutes, both very much hungry and exhausted from work and busy streets of London. What did they expect, Christmas is only a few days away, surely people are everywhere, shopping and dealing with festive things. 

Harry offered to brew tea after Louis washed the dishes and opted for a shower. By the time Louis had returned, Harry is already curled on the couch. He had the telly on and Hoppy is enjoying a piece of lettuce on the other smaller couch. Louis noticed two mug steaming hot on the coffee table, just beside the essays and he can’t help but feel happy at how they act so domesticated with each other. 

Louis grabbed a smaller blanket from the closet, fresh and softer than his duvet and placed it on the curly haired boy. He adored at how Harry tried his best to only consume half of the couch so Louis can still sit with him. He fought a lot of times running his hand in Harry’s tempting curls. He also tried his best not to wrap an arm around the figure. It was really, _really_ hard. 

When Louis is almost done with checking and finished his tea and half of Harry’s tea, Harry stirs and blinks up at him. His head against Louis’ thigh and Louis looks at him behind the paper. He smiles softly at how Harry blinks slowly as if recalling what just happened and where he is. He curiously furrows his brows and pulls the blanket to cover half of his face. 

“Whattimeisit?” he mumbles quickly and quietly. 

Louis places the paper and pen down the coffee table and leans against the backrest to stretch his arms. 

“Half past 11,” Louis replies and he looks at Harry who is still staring up at him. 

“It’s that late already?” Harry says in disbelief. “Why didn’t you wake me up, Lou?” he whines next and Louis rolls his eyes before sinking in the couch again and this time, he failed fighting the temptation. He places a hand on Harry’s forehead and run his fingers on Harry’s scalp. He may or may not regret it later but. He wants to do it. He’s doing it. No one can stop him. 

Harry closes his eyes as if Louis’ touch is making him relaxed. Louis continued running his fingers in his hair when Louis notices that Harry had fallen back to sleep again. The blanket is covering his mouth and the tip of his nose. The fingers are aligned on the edge of the blanket like a fence, aligned, long and white. 

He wants to wake up Harry but doesn’t have the heart to. He glances at Hoppy who is already asleep inside his shell. He did manage to finish the lettuce piece and Louis is happy that Hoppy is full and contented just like his human. He stares back at Harry and shakes his head. He’s so smitten with Harry that it’s not healthy anymore. 

While massaging Harry’s scalp, Louis reaches for the remote with right hand and turns the telly off. He slowly gets up, running a finger on Harry’s forehead before heading to his bedroom to get Harry a pillow. 

He places the pillow on his side of the couch. Slowly and as carefully as Louis can, he moves Harry so that his head is rested on the pillow and his legs are stretched. Louis is happy that Harry actually fits in the couch. He’s too worried that it might be short since Harry has long giraffe legs. 

Harry makes a sound, a small whimper and Louis shakes his head because Harry looks even more peaceful in his sleep. He looks so angelic it hurts achingly. 

In his 25 years of existence he didn’t even encounter a person someone like Harry. Harry is sweet and corny and bubbly and so, so lovable that Louis likes everything about him. Louis wouldn’t admit it but Harry has been inspiration in his classes for the past two years. His students might have figured already how much Louis pines for the man. It’s all in his poems, essays, examples and stories. It’s embarrassing but at the same time, it’s wonderful. It makes him enjoy class discussion more. He enjoys sharing his opinion on Keats, Neruda, Wilde and all the literary icons they deal with because he can somehow relate with all of them because he has Harry. 

Louis pulls the blanket until Harry’s shoulder and notices Harry’s feet move, bending his legs just to be covered with the small blanket Louis had given. Louis smiles at the mismatched socks. 

He takes one final glance at Harry before standing up, carrying the two mugs with him. He turns off the light in the living room and heads to the kitchen to place the mugs in the sink. He’ll deal with those tomorrow morning. 

He takes another final look at the sleeping man in his couch and he terribly wants to lie beside Harry, tuck himself between him and the backrest. He desperately wants to wrap his arms around Harry’s middle and take in all the wonderful sweet scent of Harry’s cologne and just drown himself in sleep. He achingly wants to be beside him and yet he knows he can’t. He shouldn’t. That is not proper and that would violate a lot of things in the book of We’re Just Friends, Yeah? 

Louis steps inside the bedroom and closes the door shut, thoughts most definitely not into getting some sleep but on the man he loves for a long time now. 

However, when he lies on his bed under the duvet, he falls asleep easily, a smile plastered on his face. 

\-- 

“But you didn’t wake me, Loooouuuuuuiieeeee,” Harry whines as he sits on the barstool in the kitchen. 

Louis blinked that morning when he heard clanking of pans and plates and smelled bacon in the house. He wasn’t so sure if he had bacon in the fridge but remembered that Harry slept over. He jumped off the bed, grabbed a clean shirt in his drawers and rushed out to find Harry pouring batter on the pan and frying bacon on another. 

Harry beamed and he smiled back, unwarily. He offered preparing tea and helped setting the table. When Harry’s done cooking them pancakes to feed an army and a plateful of bacon that can clog a hundred arteries, they settled in the kitchen’s small bar and sat across each other. 

Louis takes a forkful of pancake slices and eats it. He ignores Harry’s whines and busies himself in swallowing the food. Harry takes a bite from his bacon strip and pouts his lips while munching. 

“Because you were so knackered,” Louis explains as he sips his tea. “Besides, why are you upset with falling asleep?” 

Harry swallows and glares at him. “Because we wasted time. The only creature enjoying his stay here is Hoppy,” Harry presses as he points at Hoppy who is munching a lettuce piece on the stool beside Louis. It is as if Hoppy feels eyes on him, his mouth stops mid-open and looks at Harry and then at Louis in a glacial speed. 

“I’ve always wondered,” Louis says, cutting Harry’s whines and continues to watch Hoppy reaching for the remaining food in front of him. “Why a tortoise? Why not a cat? A dog? You’re idea of a pet is like a rock. What does even Hoppy do?” 

Harry tilts his head, his hair falling beautifully on his side. He props his elbows on the table and takes a bite on his pancake. “I just like them, that’s all They’re fun like that, I mean. Hoppy is one of a kind of a tortoise though, you must know.” 

“Yeah?” Louis asks and Harry nods before taking a sip on his drink. 

“I got him in a pet store in Manchester, when I was in my final year in uni. My sister gave me an early graduation gift money and told me to buy something I really really want. I’ve always wanted a pet so I didn’t think twice dashing to the pet store near my flat and look for one.” 

“And your idea of a pet is a tortoise?” Louis enunciates, hiding the sound of mockness. 

Harry shakes his head, “I’ve always love cats. However, that time my landowner doesn’t allow pets in the flat. Most especially cats, allergies and all.” He clears his plate and pushes it, just in the middle part of the table so it won’t fall. 

“Hoppy wasn’t even an ideal pet. Back then, I wasn’t even looking at him. Or at his kind. I had my eye on a big female tabby with ginger fur. I pleaded to the owner to reserve me the cat and wait til I graduate so I can change flats and bring a pet with me. 

“Before I left the store that day, I saw a glass cage of tortoises and turtles. Hoppy was in the middle of the container. Its face pressed on the glass and it was staring at me the entire time. I found him cute but I can’t buy two pets and I really really wanted the cat. So I left that afternoon and headed home. 

“It was already half past 10 in the evening when I heard a small tap on my door. I ignored it at first and headed to bed. And still, the tapping continues. I got annoyed and headed to the front door and guess who’s been knocking me at 10 in the evening?” 

Louis blinks before eyeing Harry who’s already looking at Hoppy, then turning his gaze to Hoppy. He gapes and blinks again as if understanding the story and yet finding it crazy. Harry nods and shakes his head. It seems that he’s also dumbfounded with what happened. Well, who wouldn’t be? 

“It was Hoppy, wasn’t it?” 

Harry smiles behind the mug and nods happily. Louis gapes and connects his brows before looking at Hoppy who is now peeking at the edge of the stool, wanting to go down and stretch his stubby legs. 

“I didn’t know how it happened, but Hoppy is there. I knelt down and picked him up. He was snapping his mouth nonstop when he saw me as if he’s happy or summat. I just couldn’t resist.” 

Louis smiles as he listens to Harry’s _giggle_ and props an elbow to the table to lean closer and watch how Harry’s face spills so many emotions: happiness, fondness and endearment towards the entire thing. Louis wants to see if Harry feels the same towards Louis; happy and loved and cheered for. 

“I went to the petstore the next day and told them I’m getting Hoppy instead.” 

“Smart Hoppy,” Louis cheers and Harry nodes as he lean closer too. He brushes Louis’ fringe and Louis blinks, a blush running in his face and Harry smiles, the dimples creating deep holes in his face. 

\-- 

A new term starts and Louis enters the flat with a new stack of essays to check and new class list to ponder on. He settles his things on the dining table and heads to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. 

He turns on the telly for the evening news and opens the glass door of the balcony. He stretches a bit, careful not to spill the water in the glass. He stares up the sky and sees stars twinkling under a few clouds. Louis always enjoys moments like this. He can enjoy the peacefulness and the solitude after a long day in class. 

Louis looks at Harry’s balcony and sees the light on. It’s been awhile since they had dinner together. The sleepover didn’t happen again because after that morning, Harry got hold in work since the coffee shop demanded for more time and the morning yoga classes needs more of his assistance. They will still see each other in the mornings before work, in the lift. They rarely see on the evenings though but on weekends, they make sure to have their chats. 

Louis walks towards the empty basket that was once filled with paper aeroplanes. He remembered Harry telling him to make one for himself too, to set an example, but. Louis knows better. Harry is just curious as to what is making Louis feels so caged all this time. 

He grabs a paper and pen under the small coffee table behind him and scribbles letters before folding the paper. 

He smiles but at the same time shakes his head because he had already asked his students to fly their planes and doing it just now doesn’t make him as a good example to the students. Then again, he’s all alone, and he’s doing this for his own pleasure. 

Louis fixes the tip of the plane and the flaps before looking out. The busy street of London from afar is exhausting just by looking at it. He raises a finger to feel the wind against his skin and to check if flying an aeroplane would be good at this time. 

He exhales and wills himself that by the time he had flown the paper, he’ll be brave enough to tell Harry that he wants him and that he wants Harry to go out with him. Three fucking years and tomorrow, he’s decided that he’ll make the biggest step in his life. 

Louis throws the paper and the plane glides in the night sky. Louis watches as the plane heads up and up away. He watches as the plane makes a turn and Louis blinks before realizing that the plane is flying back to him. He is about to reach for the paper when a strong gush of the wind topples the plane and it landed hard on Harry’s balcony. 

Louis panics. 

The paper fucking plane is on Harry’s fucking balcony. 

And as if by cue, Louis sees a shadow getting smaller and smaller as the figure steps in the balcony. 

_Fucking hell, Harry._

Harry tilts his head in confusion as he picks the paper and as if by instinct, flips the corners open. Louis’ heart starts beating erratically and he wish he can muster all the will to speak but he’s throat feels dry and all he can do is watch Harry. 

Harry opens the paper spread and sees his name. Louis can see from where he is standing the letters scream in bold letters and Louis wonders what had made him write only Harry’s name. He should’ve at least elaborated it because it may have a different impression on Harry or anyone who’s reading it and knows the dynamics of the paper plane. 

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other when Harry’s hands fall down and he looks up to Louis. Louis freezes and he wishes he can take the paper back. 

“Is this,” Harry begins and Louis fears that Harry might have understood everything wrong. “Is this yours, Louis?” 

Louis doesn’t reply because he might say something about confessing and he doesn’t want that. He’s too shy for that; not yet, not now. Harry sighs heavily before looking up at Louis with forlorn and yet hopeful eyes. Louis is still silent. 

Harry turns to his heels and heads inside, the paper crumpled in his hand. 

Louis swears and he doesn’t know what to feel next. One thing's for sure though, he still loves Harry. Yet, he’s mad at himself for flipping this one off. 

\-- 

Louis tries his best to talk to Harry but this time, it’s Harry’s who is ignoring him. 

He’d gone the next day after the night of embarrassment but Harry had left to work early or had locked himself and waited for Louis to leave, Louis doesn’t even know. They never meet in the lounge anymore. Harry’s balcony has been empty for a week now and Harry doesn’t do his morning yoga anymore. 

Louis tries to ignore it and focus on reading essays, checking papers and papers and drowning himself with guilt and regret because he should’ve explained himself that night to avoid all the confusion. He should’ve manned up and confessed so that he can face Harry courageously and avoid all this shite. 

It’s been two weeks now and Louis gets up from the outside stool to get inside because he’d been sitting there for hours now and it seems that Harry’s not home. 

\-- 

It was in the middle of February when all things changed. 

Louis steps out of the flat building that morning, his bag on his left shoulder and right hand tucked in his pocket. He heads for the bus and goes to the university. 

It is a normal morning alright. He goes to his usual cafe for his sandwich and tea. By the time he reaches his office, he grabs the class list for the first two lectures and heads to his classroom. 

The classes went smoothly until he receives a text from Niall that made him stop midway in biting his sandwich. 

_Harrys crying. dunno what to do. can you skip classes right now??_

Panic rises in Louis and he hands the sandwich down before pressing the buttons quickly. **What happened? I can’t. But my last class is until 1 today. I’ll leave right away.**

Louis waits for Niall’s reply and taps his foot nervously. He’s worried. Yes, even though Harry is ignoring him, he still worries over the hipster he’s in love with. 

_Hoppys missing. we couldn’t find him_

Louis frowns as he replies, **I’ll be home soon. Class is in the next hour.** He wants to tell Niall not to leave Harry alone because Harry loves Hoppy and he might do something. But he decides not to, since he’s sure Niall will wait for him and he has no right to. 

Louis rushes out the room as he collected the last of paper. He groaned at how his under-achiever student failed to accomplish the test within the time frame. He had to wait for Hugh to finish composing his essay. 

He closes the door shut and starts packing the papers he’ll be checking over the weekend. He slides his laptop in his bag and wears the coat. He’s about nearing done when he hears tapping on the front door. It’s almost a whisper and small that Louis ignores it. 

He slides the zipper of his bag close when he hears the tapping again and sighs. If this is one of his students asking questions then he’ll have to shut them down. He has better things to do. Harry is the top most priority right now, Louis argues. 

“What is i--?” 

Louis stops because there was no one standing outside when he opened the door. He looks on his left and on his right to find the hall completely empty. He shakes his head and pushes the door lightly when the door stops midway. Louis looks down to see what’s blocking it from shutting close. He blinks and gapes his mouth. 

He bends down to pick Hoppy and stares at the tortoise. Hoppy is snapping his mouth and wiggling his legs as if telling Louis ‘you dick!’ Louis laughs and shakes his head. He retrieves his bag from the table and steps outside. He locks the door behind and dashes out of the university. 

Hoppy is inside his bag and when Louis looks down, he sees Hoppy smiling at him. He smiles back. 

\-- 

When Louis reaches their flat building, he slides his phone open and sees that Niall left him a message 20 minutes ago, _i got to go, josh called. harrys in his flat sulking._

He enters the lift hurriedly and presses number 3. He’s anxious because he doesn’t even know if Harry’s aware the conversation he and Niall had been sharing. He knows Harry is mad at him and he doesn’t even know if Harry would let him in. 

By the time the doors slide open, Louis strides carefully and stands by the front door. He swallows and shakes all his anxiety away. He’s fucking nervous and the tortoise inside his bag is sleeping. He needs moral support and Hoppy isn’t even awake to push him. 

He knocks on the door and within seconds it opened. Harry is standing behind it and Louis wants to cup Harry’s face and kiss all the sadness away. 

“Hey,” Louis greets. Harry only shrugs and turns back inside. Louis follows him and closes the door behind. He’s never been into Harry’s flat and he is surprised to see shelves of books and vinyls against the wall. He sees two couches and bean bags in the living room. The place is cozy and hipstery that Louis isn’t really surprised. 

Harry sits on the couch and pulls a blanket on him. He looks so devastated. Louis places his bag on the table and pulls off his coat. He discards it mindlessly on one of the bean bags and sits beside Harry. 

“Harry,” Louis begins and Harry looks at him briefly before staring back at the telly. He’s watching Nat Geo Wild and Louis wants to roll his eyes because they’re playing an episode of rescued turtles. 

Harry is still ignoring him and Louis understands him completely. He reaches for his bag and says, “I think I know what will make you happy.” 

Harry lets out a snort and pulls his blanket over him, his feet crossed under him. He watches as Louis dips his hand and freezes when he sees a familiar moss green shell peeking out of it. Louis retrieves Hoppy that is now awake and wiggling his legs. Harry gasps and reaches for Hoppy quickly. 

Louis smiles as Harry presses Hoppy’s face in his cheek and rubs the shell endearingly. “Hoppy, Hop. Hop. Where have you been? I was so upset.” 

Louis sighs contentedly and decides that a happy Harry is the best Harry. He watches for a few minutes while the duo mumbles tortoise sounds to one another like girls squealing about their crushes. 

“Where did you find him? I looked everywhere in the flat. I even asked for Niall’s help, but we couldn’t I feared someone grabbed him and cooked him for dinner,” Harry pouts and Louis settles comfortably beside Harry. Harry must be feeling a little better now because he lets Louis to move closer. 

“You won’t believe it,” Louis says as he reaches for the remote control from Harry’s left knee. “I found him knocking on my office in the uni.” 

Harry’s eyes widen in disbelief and glares at Harry cutely. “Bad Hoppy. Why did you do that? I’m sorry for scaring you Hoppy but you need not to get to Lou, I can move on eventually.” 

Louis listens and blinks after hearing Harry’s last words. He turns to face Harry from the telly and raises an eyebrow. 

Harry pouts at him and the skin of his neck starts getting pink. “What? Move on? From what? Harry?” 

“I like you, okay?” Harry blurts all of a sudden and Louis blinks as Harry places on the floor and lets the tortoise waddle around the house. “I like you since the first day we entered the lift and you caught Hoppy falling from my head. I liked you since then. But you seem not interested and I still waited because you’re so fit and your arse is god, teasing and I knew I had to do certain actions because it’s been two years now and you still don’t notice me and…” 

“And I like you too,” Louis says quickly when Harry’s little speech dies down. “I really, really like you Harry.” 

He leans closer to push a curl behind Harry’s ear. Harry blinks and smiles a little. “But the paper plane. You wrote my name on it. I made you feel caged.” 

Louis laughs and shakes his head. He is cupping Harry’s cheek now with his left hand and continues, “I liked you since that day too. But I’m so shy and can’t even properly ask you out. I wrote on the paper your name because I feel stupid for caging myself with my feelings for you. I flew the paper and willed myself that once it’s done, I’m going to ask you out the next day. But the paper have other plans and you misunderstood.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me right after?” Harry says in disbelief with a lace of giggles because he realizes what a bunch of idiots they are. Louis smiles as he leans in and without even more pondering catches Harry’s lips in his. 

Harry responds and leans closer. He wraps his arms around Louis’ neck and pulls him down. Louis smiles in between kisses and run his hands on Harry’s curls. 

Louis stays in for the night. Harry cooks dinner for them and they eat in the living room with the telly on. They didn’t finish the film and the dinner because Harry pulls him in the bedroom, eager to touch and kiss every part of each other's body. 

\-- 

The next morning, when Louis wakes up he feels so happy despite the fact that he’s lying in a different room. He feels Harry nuzzles close and he can’t even ask for anything more. The long wait was all worth it. 

As for Hoppy, he enjoys sleeping on his little wooden house Harry had fixed for him. Hidden in it is the crumpled paper Louis had written Harry’s name on.


End file.
